


Chef Ackles and His Blushing Waiter

by littlefirefly31



Series: Kink/Request Fics [191]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Chefs, Bottom Jared, M/M, Top Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 16:20:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11740704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlefirefly31/pseuds/littlefirefly31
Summary: Prompt: Amazing, cursing, shouting, usually bad tempered chef Jensen (Gordon Ramsay, but like, Jensen) and sweet, shy, dimpled blushing waiter Jared? Jared usually has to go in the kitchen to get the dishes, and he's nervous being around the head chef because he's always cursing and shouting after everyone.





	Chef Ackles and His Blushing Waiter

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the lateness! I have fics in the work, I promise :)

 Prompt: Amazing, cursing, shouting, usually bad tempered chef Jensen (Gordon Ramsay, but like, Jensen) and sweet, shy, dimpled blushing waiter Jared? Jared usually has to go in the kitchen to get the dishes, and he's nervous being around the head chef because he's always cursing and shouting after everyone.

 

The Lavender Courtyard was the most enchanting restaurant in Dallas. Filthy rich customers all dressed to the nines, booking reservations weeks in advance. It was near impossible to get a table without a reservation but people still tried, they still camped outside the lavender-colored doors and inquired if there could possible be a table in the lavender filled restaurant, with a roof that had a glass so clear it felt like there wasn’t a ceiling at all.

It had been 14 months and Jared could still be struck dumb from the beauty of the restaurant. Long after they closed Jared would stare up through the ceiling while he bussed dishes and imagined what it would be like to be so wealthy that he could afford to dine here.

“Jared! I’m going on break, can you take Table 14?”

“Yeah, Gen, no problem!” Jared shouted back. He wiped his sweaty palms on his apron and stopped staring through the ceiling. The sky was purple with the sunset, the same color as the lavender flowers blooming in the restaurant.

He walked over to the table and put on his best “I’m excited to help you” smile. “Hi, and welcome to the Lavender Courtyard, where the atmosphere is calm but the food is anything but. Can I get some drinks started for you while you decide what to eat?”

Jared was the master of charm and flitted between tables with grace, always keeping his smile out in the hopes of big tips. Given the clientele that dined here, _all_ of them could afford to tip charitably. You just had to be charming enough.

There was just one person that charm consistently failed on, and unfortunately it was one of the people that Jared had to spend the most time with. Chef Ackles.

The Lavender Courtyard was only famous because of Jensen Ackles. Yes, the atmosphere was bewitching and the wait staff was dazzling and it felt like you were always eating outside--but the real hook was Jensen Ackles. He was as elusive as he was talented, and despite publishing dozens of cookbooks and filling youtube with graceful and patient cooking demonstrations he revealed very little of his personal life. The only thing Jared knew for sure was that Ackles was scary as hell in the kitchen and just as respected.

On Jared’s first day everyone warned him about Ackles. They said that he wasn’t the type that made friends at work or that wanted to learn your name. He wanted to get in, do his job damn well, and leave. Ackles had no room for imperfections in the kitchen and if you weren’t good enough, you were gone. It didn’t stop Jared from introducing himself to the legendary chef when he went to pick up his first order. He didn’t get any response at all, so he spoke up again louder—and nearly dropped all the dishes when Ackles barked at a chef who had a “sloppy plate that he wouldn’t even give to a stray dog.”

After that, Jared stopped trying to charm Jensen Ackles. Oh, Jared could admit freely that Ackles popped into his dreams every now and again, commanding and strong like he was in the kitchen while Jared lay underneath him, whimpering and desperate. It usually ended in an orgasm and then disappointment, silently wanting to discover who Jensen Ackles was beyond the belligerent exterior.

Jared pulled himself out of his memories and went back to the kitchen to pick up the order for one of his tables. He steadied himself and took a deep breath before entering the kitchen. Jared had been a waiter at the Lavender Courtyard for over a year and he still shook in his boots when he had to pick up orders from the kitchen. Inside, a pale-faced chef was quaking while Ackles yelled red in the face about his plate.

“This is _pig slop_!” Jensen hollered. “Actually, _no,_ that’s an insult to pig slop. This is so far from Beef Wellington I don’t even know _how_ you made it! If you’re going to cook shit like this that I wouldn’t even dignify enough to call edible, then you can get the fuck _out_ of my kitchen!”

The rest of the chefs were focusing hard on their work, doing everything they could to not watch the show. They silently sympathized; everyone in the kitchen had been victim of Ackles’ wrath at some point.

Jensen turned around muttering and met Jared’s eyes. “Can I help you?”

“I’m—waiter—table 25-,” Jared stammered. He could imagine that his face was bright red and his hands twisted together in an attempt to work out nervous energy.

“With eloquence like that I am truly shocked you’re allowed to speak to other people.”

“Better hope your food makes up for it then,” Jared responded automatically. He was not the type to banter, usually hiding in the background. And this was _Jensen Ackles_. You do not joke around in Jensen Ackles’ kitchen, and you do _not_ talk back to him. If he says the sun rises in the west and the sky is pink, you say “yes, chef.”

But Jensen didn’t say anything. He stared at Jared with an unreadable expression before quietly, “It will, if you ever move your fucking ass out of this kitchen and _bring those people my fucking orders_!”

Jared scrambled to balance the plates and got out of the kitchen as fast as he could, heart racing. The doors shut with the sound of Jensen slamming his hands on the metal counter and screaming about how the whipped cream was so watery it could be milk.

So as attracted as Jared was to Ackles, he was too terrifying to do anything about it.

Until one late night when the restaurant got unexpectedly slammed. The host had accidentally reserved more tables than were available, and everyone was scrambling to figure out a solution that didn’t involve turning wealthy patrons away.

Jared was sweaty and exhausted by the end of the night. He had served a restaurant full of angry, impatient people who just wanted their food. Ackles and the rest of the chefs were just as irritated as anyone else, slammed with orders full of nit-picky orders. There were more foul words out of the angry chef’s mouth than requests.

He was finally done bussing the tables and took his stack of dishes to the kitchen. His night was close to being over. Ackles was huffing and puffing in the kitchen and the other chefs looked weak in the knees. “Rough night?” Jared asked.

Jensen shot him a dirty look. “Put the dishes in the sink.”

Jared felt bad for the overworked cooks so, despite Jensen’s hiss to get the fuck out of his kitchen, Jared stayed to help wipe down stovetops and wash dishes.

Jared didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly it was just him and the legendary Jensen Ackles alone in the kitchen. Jared’s heartbeat kicked up three speeds and his hands shook.

“What are you-  _no_ , that knife cannot be put in the dishwasher. It's 2,000 dollars, give it to me. I’ll wash it.” Jensen stalked over to take it from him. “Clearly you can’t be trusted with nice things.”

Jared was taught by his mom not to react to mean words. She’d always tell them that people who used words to hurt were just hurting themselves, and that Jared had to be better than those people. He had to not lower himself to their level. Jared was too shy to try and stand up to a force as commanding as Jensen and fumbled to hand the knife over.

“H-h-h-here, chef.”

“Finally. You’d think you were dumb or something.”

Jared didn’t typically stand up for himself; he was too scared of confrontation. But it was a long night, he’d had a lot of upset customers, and it was hot as hell and Jared was working late washing dishes. So he was in no mood to deal with an uptight, overrated asshole insulting him.

“You know what, Ackles?” Jared started. “You don’t have the right to talk to me that way. You don’t have the right to talk to _anyone_ that way, just because you can toss a salad or grill some chicken.”

“ _Toss a salad? Grill some chicken_? Is that what you think I do? I work more in five minutes than you do your whole year! You think carrying around some plates of food is hard? Seriously? My 12 year old nephew can do that, and _he_ would complain less! I make meals that are more complicated and more elegant than anything you will ever eat!” Jensen got right next to Jared. “And if you _ever_ insult me about my food, in _my_ kitchen, again, then I will throw you in my _oven_!”

It was exactly the wrong time for Jared to get turned on, and yet that was exactly what was happening. Jensen was up close to him and smelled good, like cinnamon and bacon. His eyes were green as emeralds, lips full and tinged with red like they’d been bitten in a moment of intense concentration. And Jared hadn’t been laid in a _really_ long time.

Jensen looked like might have some of the same struggles, because his pupils were wide with excitement and if Jared wasn’t hallucinating, lust.

They were just standing there together, alone, in a very hot room and Jared wanted to follow the line of sweat down Ackles’ neck with his tongue.

“You’re staring, Padalecki.” The chef murmured.

“So are you,” Jared replied. It felt like the chef’s eyes could see straight through to his soul. “My name is Jared.”

“I know.” Ackles placed the knife on the counter. “You introduced yourself on your first day, all big doe eyes and drowning in your vest.” He tugged on Jared’s bowtie. “I wanted to bend you over the counter.”

Jared couldn’t hear anything but his heartbeat. “You wanted to—you—what?”

Jensen didn’t waver. “You were awkward and eager to please but all I could see was how you would look if you were coming on my dick. I wanted to bend you over the counter and _fuck_ you.” He stroked a hand down Jared’s chest. “I wanted to eat you out until you were begging for mercy and then fuck you until you scream and come all over yourself.”

“Do it,” Jared pleaded. “Please, I want that. I’ll be good for you.”

“Oh I know you will.” Jensen pulled Jared down for a kiss, fierce and passionate like he was in the kitchen. His lips were soft and Jared sank into the kiss. Jared was impressed; even though Jensen was shorter than him by a few inches he managed to support Jared’s weight. It was comforting and the best kiss Jared had ever had. He moaned and rubbed his dick against Jensen’s thigh it what he thought was discrete but, from the smile that formed on Jensen’s lips he had a feeling that it was fairly obvious.

“Alright, big boy, we’ll get you there.” Jensen undid the zipper on Jared’s slacks and started to pull them down. “Wow, _really_ big boy, huh?” Jensen commented, admiring the bulge in Jared’s underwear. Jared went red but Jensen tilted his chin up. “Don’t get shy on me now, Jay. I want to see everything I do to you.” He pulled Jared in for another kiss and it felt like Heaven. Jared could sit and kiss Jensen all day.

He was suddenly very conscious of the fact that he was in his underwear—which Jensen was slowly tugging down—and Jensen was still fully clothed. He reached for Jensen’s chef’s jacket and started unbuttoning it, but his hands fumbled with the buttons. Jensen’s fingers covered his and helped undo his jacket. His hands wrapped around Jared’s larger ones. “What’s going on? You look nervous.”

“It’s been a while,” Jared mumbled.

“I’ll make it good,” Jensen promised, shimmying Jared’s underwear and shirt off.

“Can you… can you also take some clothes off? I feel weird.”

Jensen’s eyes raked over Jared’s body and he resisted the urge to cover himself. “Jesus fuck, Jared, I’m tempted to ban shirts in this restaurant just so I can stare at you all day.” Jensen ran a hand down and tweaked a nipple, soliciting a moan from Jared. “But then again, I think I’d be so mad that other people got to look at you I’d hide you away in my kitchen.”

Jensen continued to strip and Jared found himself wanting to lick Jensen’s chest. He blushed just thinking about it.

“What’s the blush for?”

“I want to lick your chest,” Jared blurted, and then immediately wanted to take Jensen up on his earlier offer and jump into Jensen’s oven. He couldn’t believe he actually said that.

“You’re welcome to it,” Jensen said. “But maybe we can do it at my house… on my bed… after I suck you dry.”

Jared’s stomach was doing backflips. “That sounds nice.”

“Good. But right now I would really like to fuck you, Jared.” He backed Jared up against the wall and eased his legs apart. “Does that sound nice?”

“Very.” Jared wanted to feel Jensen’s dick inside him but then remembered a fairly large issue. “Except I don’t think I can take you dry.”

“Hold on.” Jensen disappeared for a second, as did the kisses on his sensitive neck. He returned with Crisco. “It’s safe, I checked.”

Jared spread his legs wider and allowed Jensen to start to open him up with Crisco. He supposed it was appropriate, considering he was fucking a chef. His fingers entered slowly, scissoring him open with a tenderness and care that was unlike the angry chef Jared always saw in the kitchen. He thought he might come from Jensen’s fingers alone until he felt something larger press against his hole. His legs opened wider to welcome Jensen’s dick. He entered slow but firm and when Jensen started to thrust Jared saw stars behind his eyes. “Fuck, Jensen, _yes_. Harder!”

Jensen pounded into him. “Oh Jared, oh shit Jared, yes! Yes!!”

Jared had never been fucked up against a wall before, he kind of thought that it was just a porn thing, but as Jensen’s nails dug into his shoulders and his cock nailed into his prostate Jared decided he could get used to wall fucking.

“God, you’re so sexy, you blow my fucking mind,” Jensen grunted.

“Oh yes, oh fuck, oh yes, oh Jensen, C _hef Ackles_!”

Jensen’s cry was muffled by his bite in Jared’s shoulder. His hands went to Jared’s dick and it didn’t take more than a few strokes before Jared was coming all over Jensen. They were both sweaty and exhausted, and Jensen leaned against Jared for support. “That was fucking hot as hell,” Jensen grunted.

Jared’s stomach growled and he blushed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ll take it as a compliment. I wore you out.” Jensen slid off Jared’s lap and went over to his stove. “You ever had anything here?”

Jared raised his eyebrow. “Does this seem like a place I can afford?”

“Well, how does a steak sound? Rib eye?”

Jared’s stomach growled. “Can you make it-,”

“Jared, I swear to god if you tell me how to cook a steak, I will withhold future orgasms.”

“So, if I shut up, there _will_ be future orgasms?”

“Many.” Jensen finished off the meat and handed it to Jared on a plate nicer than his whole apartment.

Jared bit into his steak and moaned. It was the best thing he’d ever tasted and melted in his mouth, but frowned suddenly. “Why were you always yelling when you saw me? Why didn’t you say any of this weeks ago?”

“I’m good with food,” Jensen said. “Not so good with words.” He leaned over and kissed Jared softly and he couldn’t keep a smile off his face. Jensen’s kisses were as addictive as his food.

Jared pulled away with a smirk, remembering something. “Did you get off on me calling you Chef Ackles?”

“Shut up, Jared.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oops I kind of got carried away with this story.


End file.
